


Sometimes... I just need you to breathe

by fckyeahgallavich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Affection, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Internal Monologue, M/M, Needless Justification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: Hugs... Embraces...Whatever the fuck you wanted to call them... They weren't about sexual satisfaction and I'd never given any thought to what they might do for people... But right here, right now I finally realized that sometimes this insanely simple gesture could be even more powerful and more necessary than any sexual act.





	Sometimes... I just need you to breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crimson_Bebop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Bebop/gifts).

Don't let this little rant I'm about to have fool you -- Mickey Milkovich never was, still is not, and never will be a fuckin _sap. _I've never been the wordy type or the one to go around blurtin his fuckin feelings as he feels em. Ian Gallagher had to come to terms with it, and so will you. But... but maybe I'm softening a little bit... and maybe that's not a bad thing.

Dad always beat into his boys that we didn't need nobody but us. The Milkoviches looked after themselves and each other and outside of _family_ you don't rely on anyone, and you don't show weakness to _anyone (not even family)._ Well... Ian, thankfully, wasn't raised that way. Even as I'm grateful beyond anything that Ian wasn't raised like me, it made it harder for him to understand my feelings about _touch_. From the first time we hooked up, the kid wanted to kiss me and hold my hand and shit. He'd taken me completely by surprise when he'd thrown his arms around me at the Kash 'n' Grab that time he was freakin out about Hurricane Monica. I'd thrown him off and marched to the walk-in to give him his comfort in the only way I knew how and the only way I was prepared, and I had to fight with myself until we got started to not think about what that almost-hug was about or how I felt about it.

I'm not a hugger, okay? Mandy got them if I was feelin squishy and otherwise I kept my arms to myself and expected likewise from anyone around me. Ian, much like with the rest of my fuckin life, just kinda wriggled his skinny ass onto that list of people I actually didn't mind hugging... and I'm even not sure of when he'd done it.

It only struck me just now as I deeply inhaled against his chest, wrapping myself in his scent just as his arms completely enveloped me, that I hadn't felt relief like this... sweet peace like this since.... God, I couldn't even remember. How had I gone from throwing this guy off me whenever he tried to show me the slightest bit of affection, to being embraced by him and embracing him back just as tightly -- And not even really giving a shit who saw?

I felt the tip of his nose nuzzling against the crown of my head and I knew he was breathing me in too. A slight hum sounded, vibrating gently through his chest, and I felt the corners of my mouth curve up in response. I adjusted my arm which was curved over his hip, fingers lightly grazing the small of his back right over the elastic of the top of his boxers, and gently dragged my fingers up his spine. A very un-manly giggle hissed from between his clenched lips as I slowly wrapped my arm up higher on his back so I was fully embracing him too. We couldn't be soft like this in front of the other guys... Shit like this was just for us. And we didn't really do this shit much either.. Normally it didn't feel necessary. But...

Oh! Now I remember the last time I felt relief like this... When I'd returned to him after he got out of the hospital. The hug before he went in had left me so exposed... I'd _never _hugged anyone like that, not even Ian in all of the months we'd lived together. And I'd _sure as fuck _never _cried_ on someone while I hugged them as I did when he'd fully prepared to slug his sad ass through that cage-like door without so much as a goodbye. That hug, or embrace or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, had been a completely new experience that'd shook me to the core. But, like damn near everything in my life, I'd shoved it away and pretended like it was nothing. So when I'd creeped into the Gallagher boys' bedroom about five days later, I had to work with myself as I climbed into bed to convince myself that touch was appropriate in that moment. That maybe hugging and holding Ian would be... healing or some shit... As I'd slowly wrapped myself around him and accepted his embrace back, I remember now being so anxious about how _good _it felt to hold him and to be held by him, and to like it. My heart'd thundered in my chest that whole fuckin night and I couldn't really settle down until he'd started talking to me, giving me something else to focus on. 

But now... Now it was like my whole being was at rest in a sublime way -- like a muscle that'd been too tense for _so fucking long_ that it'd felt like _agony_ until finally relaxing.

At that comparison I actually did kinda withdraw from Ian, my heartbeat kicking up a fraction because this was bad... So, _so _bad. I was way too vulnerable, and God knew how many times Ian had taken advantage of the times I'd let myself be vulnerable before...

Dad had knocked me away whenever I tried hugging Mom or Mandy or any of my brothers in front of him. We were told that to trust someone was to be made a sucker. And... Well, it'd been a struggle over the past three years to not believe that he was right. And letting go of Ian just now, and feeling him follow me to keep up with the connection, and actually feeling _lighter _from his effort... I realized now that Dad was full of shit.

I'd never be what someone would call a "hugger." But... Dammit, sometimes words were not enough and sometimes sex just wasn't the thing. Sex was Ian's and my typical mode of communication, and usually it was fool-proof. But then there were times like this where I didn't want to feel him inside me like that, at least not at that moment. I just wanted to feel us sharing warmth, sharing air... to feel his heart beat securely against mine. 

I sucked in another breath and curled my fingers over the top of his shoulder to bring him even closer. I really hadn't breathed well over the past three days without him. I always knew that my need for Ian was way beyond the connection that Terry Milkovich had warned me about. 

I'd rather stop fucking breathing than not know if Ian Gallagher was safe and healthy. It wasn't rational, it wasn't reasonable... it was automatic. These breaths that I took against his chest were the deepest and most satisfying that they'd been in _days. _And... and sex can't really give you that.

So maybe these simple gestures are what keep us breathing when we get the breath knocked out of us from finding someone worthy of risking being vulnerable for. I'd always thought that sex was the most practical and necessary act that you could participate in with another person... That kissing and hugging was unnecessary because there wasn't any satisfaction in it, no benefit. Slowly, I'd discovered the value of kisses and had grown to need them and desire them right along with the fucking. Hugs... Embraces...Whatever the fuck you wanted to call them... They weren't about sexual satisfaction and I'd never given any thought to what they might _do _for people... But right here, right now I finally realize that sometimes this insanely simple gesture could be even more powerful and more necessary than any sexual act.

Ian hummed again and I ran the tip of my nose through the curls of chest hair, right up to his throat. I exhaled and inhaled deeply before placing the lightest of kisses against the slightly pulsing vein above his collarbone. 

"I missed you," I whispered into the silence. Ian sighed and wrapped his arms even tighter around me, an involuntary sigh sounded from low in my throat.

"I missed you too, Mick."

I sank back into the mattress and pressed my face into his chest again and absorbed the warmth of his arms and settled into the most comfortable position I'd ever found myself in these god-awful prison beds. 

"Hey, Mick?" Ian's tenor sounded above me.

"Yeah?" I murmured, sleep already clouding my voice.

"Will you let me hold you like this more?" Ian's voice was shy, like he had been afraid to ask. "I just..." He continued. I stilled and waited for him to complete his thought. "I just feel real close to you like this." I was frozen in place, my muscles tense as his words sank into my brain and my heart thundered as inexplicable panic rushed through me. He felt what I felt, then? Like... like even though everything about our relationship had been great even without the hugging that this simple touch was actually... mindblowing? Like... like even though I'd breathed just fine through our years together, like this was the first time I'd actually taken a _complete _and _full _breath in my entire life? But this panic reminded me just then that I still had a lot of shit to work through still. I hadn't completely beat Terry Milkovich out of my head, but... But I felt _good _in Ian's arms and I'd be damned before I let anyone make me feel sorry for liking the raw emotional connection that I felt with my partner when we held each other like this.

I relaxed my muscles and rest back in the mattress, breathing deeply as I resumed absorbing his warmth.

"Sure, man."

He didn't need to know the complex things at work in my brain, the weight of this moment or this gesture. He didn't need to know that I'd already figured out that this would be necessary from now on to fully breathe. He didn't need to know all that. 


End file.
